City of Lost Children
by SoloMoon
Summary: With a yeerk in his head, Tom can only watch, utterly helpless, as his family falls apart. Tom's perspective on what happens to Jake during the war. Loose prequel to "Day the Earth Stood Still."


A/N: Written to the sounds of "Screamer" by Good Charlotte. Set about two years before "Day the Earth Stood Still."

* * *

><p>Essa 412 froze my body outside the door of the kitchen.<p>

"... the Sharing?" Jake was saying. "How come every conversation in this house has to cycle back to the Sharing?"

"It was a suggestion!" My mom sounded pissed. "Because you need to do _something _to turn your life around, young man, if you don't want to end up dropping out of high school!"

{Interesting,} Essa thought.

_Fucking shitheaded parasitic asswipe,_ I answered on reflex.

"Mom..." Jake was near tears. I could hear it in his voice.

"You walked out of school, in the middle of the day, _three hours before you had an Algebra test_!" Mom yelled. "What _the hell _has gotten into you?"

"Yeah, I know," Jake mumbled. "I just..."

"You're fourteen years old, not _four_! And cutting class to get out of taking a test would be unacceptable behavior for a four-year-old, for that matter!"

Essa had to step closer to the ajar door to catch when Jake whispered, "I didn't do it to get out of the test."

Mom slammed a cabinet door shut so hard the wall rattled. "What was it, then?"

"Something came up."

"Oh, of course!" She laughed hysterically. "Something _urgent_, more urgent than your entire future?"

"Yeah," Jake said defiantly. "Yeah, it was."

"And what was this world-in-peril situation that arose so suddenly, if I may ask?"

"See, Marco-"

"Oh, so it was an urgent situation with you and Marco. I see." Mom's voice had a sarcastic edge now that was downright nasty. "And did this urgent situation just _happen_ to arise in the arcade at the mall?"

"No," Jake mumbled. "It was... Somewhere else."

God, I was in pain just listening to him. Watching Jake try to lie was like watching a taxxon-controller try to use a MacBook.

Mom apparently thought so too, because she cut off the inquisition. "Never mind. I'm not going to get a straight answer out of you, am I? And yet you're just _allergic_ to the idea of following your brother's example. Becoming part of something bigger than yourself."

_Damn straight he is_, I thought.

{We'll see,} Essa said.

"You know, Mom, I outgrew the idea of wanting to be exactly like Tom around the time I turned ten." Jake sounded like he was fighting for calm.

Bullshit. He'd still been following me around until a little over a year ago, at which point he'd... stopped. Started doing his own thing. His own thing, which seemed to involve a hell of a lot of sneaking out a weird hours. And now apparently cutting class.

"Tom has a straight-A average and hasn't had a single demerit this entire school year. There are worse things you could do than turn out exactly like him."

And yet I never did any homework. Or read any books. Or showed up to school more than three days a week. How mysterious. Almost like the vice principal and half the teachers were being controlled by aliens that needed me to get good grades so that the yeerk in my brain could keep on spending all its time recruiting for the local cult chapter without having to bother with the mundanities of homework.

What Jake said next caught me off guard. "Did he ever tell you why he quit the basketball team?"

Mom was silent for a second. "We'd had several conversations in the past about the fact that I thought the practices were taking up too much of his time, and I wasn't comfortable with him attending all those wild post-game parties. I didn't think I was ever going to convince him, but... Evidently it's done him some good."

I felt a tug deep in my gut, missing those days. Missing the guys I'd still been friends with, before Temrash 114 had started acting too good to hang out with them. Missing the precise squeak of sneakers on the gym floor and the crisp sound of a perfect foul-line shot swishing through the net. Missing being able to run on my own. Missing breathing of my own volition.

Essa, snooping as always, snickered. {Poor baby.}

_Motherfucking shitwad snail-faced offal. _ My mental vocabulary had expanded considerably in a few select directions in recent months.

"It happened around the time he joined the Sharing, didn't it?" Jake said.

_Interesting_, I thought.

"You're right, it's probably not a coincidence," Mom said. "Notice how well he's been doing in school ever since he joined as well."

Well, they were circling around the cause and effect, although they were both missing a pretty crucial variable in the equation.

{You think he suspects something,} Essa said.

_He doesn't know anything_, I said sharply.

"So what do you have against the Sharing? They might be able to help," Mom pleaded.

"Trust me, they wouldn't," Jake said darkly.

If I'd been able to smile I would have. _Well, he's not wrong_...

{You _do _think he suspects something!} Essa said.

_What? No. Of course not, _I thought frantically. _ Don't be an idiot-_

{Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,} he cooed. {When are you ever going to learn that you can't lie to me?}

_He doesn't know anything! What could he possibly suspect?_

It was too late. Essa was already scrolling through my memories, reading my past thoughts like a courtroom transcript. A jury of one, deciding whether to condemn my little brother to a lifetime of imprisonment. I didn't bother trying to distract the yeerk; what was the point? And it was a feeling, nothing more. Just that Jake had noticed something different about me. That he'd almost certainly started acting differently around me not that long after I'd gotten infested. But it was probably just part of being a teenager.

_Gosh,_ I drawled,_ you don't think he's ever a little_ _suspicious of the way that every single conversation you have with him eventually descends into "Join the Sharing, Jake." "Drink the Kool-Aid, Jake." "You should be a Stepford son just like me, Jake."?_

{Shut up!} Essa snapped.

_Make me, you shit-sucking amoeba intestined son of a bitch._

"I'm sorry, okay?" Jake burst out. "I screwed up, I know that, I won't do it again-"

"Won't you?" Mom asked, voice cold.

Jake didn't answer.

"This is the fifth time this year they've found you out of class when you're not supposed to be," she said. "If you don't ace the make-up, you're going to fail Algebra I because of the number of assignments you've missed. I'm pretty sure it's too late for you to salvage Prechemistry, judging by the conversation I had with Mr. Chapman today."

Jake mumbled something I didn't catch.

"Yes, he did mention the Sharing to me. As a possible alternative to letting you fail out," Mom said. "They're talking about suspending you, Jake. But he said that if you joined he could take it as a sign that you're dedicated to turning your life around, and could talk to Mr. Larson about wiping your disciplinary record."

"I'd rather fail out," Jake said flatly.

Mom slapped her hand down on the counter. "_Excuse me_?"

I could just imagine the shade of red Mom's face was turning right now.

"I'd rather fail out than join that _cult_." He said it louder this time, as if that would make anything better.

_Ha_, I thought smugly.

{Shut up,} Essa said.

There was silence in the kitchen for a long, long time. And then Mom said, "Jake, I don't know what to do with you. You're grounded for the next month. No TV, no internet, no Playstation, no hanging out with Marco after school. Is that clear?"

Jake must have nodded, because she walked away.

Essa realized she was headed toward the door where we were lurking half a second before it opened. Sadly, I looked like I was just walking up normally by the time Mom walked past.

"I don't know what to do with him, honestly I don't," she told me quietly.

My hand gently patted her on the arm. "What's wrong?" my mouth asked.

"Jake's... being Jake. I swear some days it's like I turned around and there's a whole other person there where my sweet little boy used to be. Like he became a stranger overnight. And I know that's not the case, but..." She stopped herself, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dumping all this on you. Just..." She gave a faint, tired smile. "Never change, okay?"

"Sure."

Essa turned to watch her as she walked away. {So, the real question becomes: is your mother an idiot, or is she in denial?}

I knew what he was talking about-of course I did, little asshole was inside my brain-but I wasn't in the mood to discuss it. _Shut up_.

Of course he didn't listen. {Hell, even I can see what's happening to him, and I'm not even part of your sad little species.}

_You got all your conclusions from my memories. Don't toot your fucking horn too much._

{And yet she has no clue.}

_It's not..._ I didn't finish the sentence. Essa would know if I lied, and "I don't think Jake's on drugs" would be a lie right about now.

{Is she stupid, or is she being willfully blind?}

_Jake's not addicted to anything._ I said it anyway._ He's not_.

{So, you think it's heroin, then?} Essa made a thoughtful noise. {Well, it would explain how much of a zombie he's been recently, but he doesn't have that kind of funding. My money's on cocaine. Much cheaper.}

My hand pushed the kitchen door open. My body walked into the kitchen.

Jake had been staring at the countertop where he sat with his head bowed, but when I entered his head snapped up sharply.

"So," Essa said, grinning sadistically, "You think I'm part of a cult?"

We'd both expected Jake to start trying to talk his way out of it, which was why Essa had said it. Neither of us expected his face to go white, or for him freeze where he sat like I'd just pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

{See?} Essa said smugly. {You don't get that jumpy unless it's uppers.}

I ignored the taunt. Jake was visibly trying to look less freaked out than he actually was. Much as I hated to admit it Essa might be right. That wasn't a normal reaction; he was acting _afraid_ of me.

"I didn't mean it like that," Jake said at last, voice hoarse.

Essa shrugged my shoulders. "Where _did _you go during school today, anyway?"

Jake froze all over again.

{Gosh, Tommy, he looks like shit, doesn't he?} Essa cooed.

Again, he wasn't wrong. Jake had the skinny, pinched look of a lot of teenage boys, but on him it looked downright unhealthy. Like our parents had been keeping him locked in a closet and not feeding him or letting him have any sunlight for the past five years. His hair was an unwashed, lank mess and even now he looked like his brain was a million miles away, like the simple conversation was too much effort to bother following.

And he kept tensing up every time I made a sudden move.

"None of your business," Jake said at last.

"Touchy, touchy," Essa drawled. "You ever think about switching to decaf, squirt?"

"Do you want something?" he snapped. "I was already having the world's shittiest day before-" He stopped.

"What, lose all your quarters at the arcade? Life must be so hard."

He flipped me off.

{Hey Tommy, watch this.}

My body turned partway around, keeping eye contact with Jake, and my hand grabbed the handle of a steak knife off the block on the counter, yanking the blade out in a single smooth motion.

Jake flinched.

The yeerk laughed. {Right on cue.}

To cover for the motion Essa opened the refrigerator and found an apple to start cutting into slices. Slowly. After pausing to examine the knife.

{Darling Jake is cracking up, yes he is,} Essa sing-songed.

_Shut up_, I said tiredly.

{Make me. You think someone'll tell your mom what a fucking idiot she's being when he's OD'd in some ditch, or will they all have to play at being sympathetic?}

_That's not going to happen_.

{Yeah, there's nothing to worry about _at all_.}

_It's called normal teen angst. Look it up. _

{Uh-huh. Be sure to let _normal teen angst_ know that if it wakes us up in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder one more time I'm going to smother it with a pillow.}

Mentally I flinched. _That's... He's..._

{You know, I think I remember some of this from Iniss 226's DARE campaign at that Sharing outreach program last year. You don't get to this point-the repeated absences, the slipping grades-until you're in pretty deep,} it said smugly. {I think this might be a serious problem. It always starts with teen experimentation, and then next thing you know your parents kick him out for skimming off their bank accounts, and when he's out on the street... Oh, dear.} Its tone was all mock-concern and condescension.

_Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up_.

{Hey, maybe it won't get to that point-}

_Shut up shut up-_

{Maybe he'll blow his brains out with your dad's gun before it ever gets that bad. Ooooh, what a mess on the carpet, all those skull fragments all over the place and Jake just staring at the ceiling, like that escaped host who got her hands on a dracon beam.}

_SHUT YOUR FUCKING TRAP YOU SCUMWAD!_

{You remember her, right? That big, gooey hole in the back of her head, the way she kept twitching for almost thirty seconds afterward... Jake's gonna be just like that, isn't he?}

I was screaming now, blind with anger, cut off from whatever the hell my body was doing in my absence. _SHUT UP! SHUT UP!_

{MAKE ME! Make me stop telling you about how he's _dying_, right in front of your face, and your parents are too fucking stupid to do anything about it and it's not like you can warn them, can you, because-}

I clenched my right hand around the knife handle. I slammed my eyes closed for half a second before Essa snapped them open again.

Jake-he was apparently still there-glanced over at me sharply. That had all probably looked like some kind of weird spasmodic twitch. God only knew what he thought had just happened, because he didn't say anything.

_Don't mind me, squirt. I'm just concentrating every ounce of willpower in my body toward trying to stab myself in the brain. It'll be quick. Easy. One knife stroke, jammed backward through my eye with all my force, driving into the parasite underneath... _

{Rude. You'll traumatize the poor kid. He'll be in therapy for life.}

_Yeah, but neither you nor I would be around to see it_.

{And what would your parents do with one kid dead and the other fucked up beyond all salvaging?}

_Sell the house and move into a condo in Orange County the way they're always threatening to do as soon as Jake and I leave for college. Anyway, it won't be my problem because I'll be just as dead as you are._

{Cold, Tommy, very cold.}

_What can I say? You must be rubbing off on me_.

Essa laughed inside our head.

Jake stood up abruptly and walked outside, refusing to look at me as he went.

{Wow, what's eating him?}

I didn't answer, sick of our endless bickering. Sick of the exhaustion that came with fighting so hard to move, even knowing that it would do no good.

I was... atrophying. I could feel it. Like parts of me were withering away without use, limbs that hadn't been used in so long forgetting how to move at all.

Only it wasn't limbs. It was _me_.

It was all the parts of me that I'd used to smile at my Mom and tease Jake and have friendly shove-fights with the guys on my team. The part of me that used to know when my Dad was barely dragging his ass home after a long day so that I could hand him a cup of his favorite frou-frou tea when he walked in the kitchen and pretend I was just using the microwave for something else anyway. The part of me that could coax a smile out of any girl in the tenth grade, the one that could make a perfect three-point shot as easily as breathing.

Disappearing.

I was disappearing, in pieces and chunks. And I was too tired even to care.

{Think you'll turn out like them, then?}

Essa pulled up a memory of the dead-eyed, borderline comatose hosts who went limp the instant their yeerks left them for feeding and stayed that way the entire time they waited. I never knew if they'd lost all ability to move and talk on their own or if they just stopped having the willpower to do so. Talking to them never did any good. They never reacted to anything. Even when the andalites raided the pool, as they had today, the walking vegetables never so much as looked up at the sound of the elephant screams or the wolf howls.

If the andalites ever did succeed-either in hurting the yeerks enough to convince them to leave or in summoning more help than their current pathetic crew of one prince, at most four warriors, and one kid who Essa had seen demorphed and claimed had to be young enough to be an aristh-they'd already be too late to save a lot of the hosts.

Several more months of this, and they'd probably be too late to save me.

Essa walked over to the kitchen window, leaning against the counter in front of the sink. Jake was sitting in the backyard on one of the ancient half-rusted swings still rotting out there. He hugged the one chain with both hands like it was all that was keeping him from tipping over, head tilted back to look up at the sky.

{Make that two basket cases for table five,} Essa said. {With extra happy.}


End file.
